Monday, October 3, 2011

All that Peg wants is a break, a bit of adventure, a relief from her mundane existence in the buccolic but boring Yorkshire hamlet of Kirkby Malzeard. When dashing, sophisticated journalist Lionel Hayes saunters into the pub where she's tending bar, Peg suspects that he was just the sort of man to fulfill her fantasies of escape.

The seductive Lionel, however, is not what he seems. Before she knows it, Peg is a hostage, roped and gagged, speeding away from the scene of a daring crime. Lionel is armed and dangerous, but somehow Peg still wants him - regardless of the consequences.

****

Peg began to edge backwards. Lionel grabbed her shoulders, his fingers
biting into her flesh.

"What did you do to him?"

"Me? I didn't
do anything."

The thief slid his hands down and gripped her wrists,
trapping them. "You minx! Don't lie to me." Holding her wrists behind her with
his right hand, he leaned over and picked up Jack's glass. A white sludge
coated the bottom. He held it up in front of her face.

"Okay, okay. I
dumped the remains of my gran's sleeping pills into the whisky. It won't hurt
him. Meanwhile, while he's asleep, I thought that you and I might talk." Peg
pressed her body up against Lionel's, trying to be provocative while
controlling her own arousal. "Perhaps I can convince you to let me go." His
grip on her wrists tightened ominously.

His heat penetrated the light
fabric of her blouse. She rubbed her breasts against his blazer, wishing
despite her best intentions that the two of them were naked. She could feel
two hard lumps poking into her abdomen, the unyielding steel of the gun, and
lower down, the equally rigid bulk of his erection. A shiver ran through
her. She knew that she was playing a dangerous game.

"You're not going
anywhere, Margaret. For the time being, I plan to keep you right here." Before
she knew what was happening, Lionel had picked her up and thrown her over his
shoulder again. She yelped in protest. His arm clamped down across the backs
of his thighs.

"Put me down, you -- imposter!" Peg tried to kick,
but her legs were effectively immobilised. She beat on his back with her
fists, but he ignored her assault as he carried her up the twisty, narrow
stairs to the bedroom under the eaves.

Despite her anger and fear, she
found herself amazed by his strength. She was nearly ten stone, yet he lifted
her as easily as if she'd been a child.

Lionel tossed her body onto
the bed. She sank into the old mattress, raising a cloud of dust that made her
sneeze. Her captor turned the key in the lock, then returned to face her,
grinning that outrageous, irresistible grin.

"We don't want to wake
poor old Jack, do we?" He held up the hank of twine from the bar. "I plan to
make completely sure that you don't escape."

Peg was suddenly dizzy
with desire. She fought for rationality.

"You don't have to tie me
up. I won't try to get away." But he was already removing her shoes and
fastening her left ankle to the iron bedstead.

He paused and searched
her face for a moment, then bent and ran his tongue slowly over her bare
instep. The wet heat swept over her extremities, rose to her belly, turned her
whole body to liquid. Peg writhed on the old bed, unable to hide her
reactions.

By the time she had recovered, her thighs were spread and
both feet were bound. Lionel leaned over her, once more grasping both her
wrists in his large hand. He raised them over her head, looped the twine
around them, then fastened it to the metal pipes that made up the
headboard.

"You don't understand, Margaret dear. I want to tie you
up." He fastened his lips on hers, those lush, soft lips of his that held such
promise. Now those lips were demanding, urgent, stealing her breath, consuming
her, claiming her. The kiss went on forever, yet ended too soon. Lionel
nibbled at her earlobe, whispered in her ear.

"That's what you want,
too." He began to unbutton her blouse.

Peg lay still, to reduce the
chafing from her bonds. She did not try to resist him, admitting to herself
finally that this was what she wanted, that despite his lies and treachery she
was dying for him to take her. The bonds were a convenient excuse, holding her
helpless and open so that he could use her as he wished, and she could pretend
that she had no choice.

Lionel pulled her blouse out of her skirt and
pushed it up around her armpits. Underneath, she wore her best bra, apricot
lace with a plunging cleavage. Her captor flicked a finger across her swollen
nipple, which poked up insolently through the lace. A bolt of electricity shot
through her loins. Her hips jerked upwards. He half-smiled.

"Did you
wear this for me, Margaret?" Peg's furious blush was enough of an answer. "How
very thoughtful of you." He peeled the cups away, exposing her breasts. When
he moved closer, she felt his radiant heat on her bare skin.

He cupped
the full globes in his hands, his thumbs making lazy circles around the aching
tips. "Lovely. Truly exquisite." He bent and circled the crinkled flesh near
right nipple with his tongue, while his thumb continued to circumnavigate the
left. Peg moaned, dying for him to suckle her. When he finally took the taut
bud into his mouth, though, Peg was not prepared for the sensations.

Some chain of nerves led directly from her nipple to her clit. The pull of his
lips on her nipple was transferred immediately to that other, equally swollen
bead of flesh at the heart of her sex. Without thinking she pulled her thighs
together, struggling to apply the pressure that she craved. The twine wrapping
her ankles bit into her skin.

"Ow!"

"You've got to relax,
Margaret, or you'll get hurt. Let me take care of you. Let me give you
pleasure." Lionel ran his fingers through her tangled hair, smoothing it away
from her face. He looked into her eyes. Peg thought she saw a hint of genuine
concern there, maybe even affection. However, his flushed face and parted lips
suggested that his primary emotion was lust.

"Please..."

"What
do you want? Tell me."

Embarrassment and desire warred within her. She
could not bring herself to speak.

"Do you want me to untie
you?"

No! she wanted to cry out, but it was as though she had been
gagged again.

Lionel ran his hand up her bare thigh, under her hiked
up skirt. He stroked the soaked satin of her knickers, stretched across her
pubis. Peg trembled, ready to explode.

"You know, I don't think that
you want me to untie you. You're much too wet." He slipped one finger under
the elastic and into her cleft, swirling it in her juicy depths for a moment
before pulling out.